lratchford

Another ponderous example of Arzner's apparent disdain for men and marriage. (Either good men turn bad or bad men reform only through the love of a good woman.) The film does contain a few, as Billy Wilder would say, "drop the popcorn bag" moments, to its credit; but overall, it's a dark, unimaginative story, painted with the very broad strokes and heavy hand of the director.

A virtue, since Pre-Code, it treats illicit love and extra-marital affairs with a refreshing boldness; yet pre-1960s, it manages to retain that "Golden Era" emphasis on romance to the extent that its plot allows.

But the acting here is the redeeming feature. Claudette Colbert, true to form, quietly smolders as a private secretary-cum-wife caught between the romantic propositions of two businessmen. Fredric March is surprisingly convincing as both a jilted playboy and the turned-better hero. One of the most fantastic pieces of acting I've seen involves a scene between them, where married Colbert again rejects -- though with great desire to do otherwise -- his now-honorable, but extra-marital advances. The film is worth seeing just for this scene.

The supporting cast ranges widely. Owsley delivers a snicker-worthy portrayal of the "other man", but Charlie Ruggles and Ginger Rogers take in his supporting slack with hilarious style.

This is an excellent film. Not usually a western fan, I am now a true-believer -- fan of the genre, of Wayne and O'Hara, and even, reluctantly, John Ford. Rio Grande captures the spirit of heroism that colors most of John Ford's best work. Strong personalities pursuing their values with a philosophical issue dividing them: it has an excellent, concise plot, well-developed characters, and boasts fantastic acting. Ford even shies away from allowing the scenery to star in the picture, which is a welcomed departure. With monuments like Wayne and O'Hara one does not need Monument Valley (this writer humbly submits.)

There is a profoundly moving scene in which Kirby and Kathleen York's entire relationship is summed up in the mere singing of a song (by the unforgettable voice of Ken Curtis) and O'Hara and Wayne's excellent acting -- hardly any dialogue, no flashbacks. It has to be cinematic moment for the history books... it is at least in mine.

By the way, avoid the colorized version if possible. Among other distractions, it makes John Wayne's hair look like instant brownie mix.

"Without Reservations" is a cute but canned knock-off of "It Happened One Night" (also with Colbert) -- a road picture pitting the sexes against each other and then against the elements of a screwball universe. Though very flimsy in plot structure, Colbert and Wayne end up as interesting foils. Colbert puts out with her usual impeccable timing, urbane wit and unique, feminine charm. It strikes one that Wayne is not left behind in her proverbial comedic dust, a testament to the plain fact that he was actually a fine actor masquerading as a big lug, and moreover capable of playing comedy.

For any fellow "reactionaries" there is some good dialogue delivered by Wayne against Progressivism and in favor of freedom, which, except for its brevity, might as well have been lifted directly from a James Edward Grant script. Unfortunately these ideas (symbolized by the Wayne character) are categorized as the non-thinking position, but nonetheless they are involved in the overall plot resolution.

In all, the film means well but doesn't deliver, and the actors take in the slack where possible.